


A Potter, a Watson and a big ass snake

by AnissaPotter



Series: A Potter and a Watson [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: (mostly), 2015 - ish, Alternate Universe, But it's funny, Comedy, Crossover, Don't need to read the first one to understand!, Future Fic, Gen, Give it a try, Going to Hogwart, John Watson's Daughter - Freeform, POV Original Female Character, Reichenbach Falls, She befriends Neville Longbottom, She is very similar to Sherlock, Teenagers, There is not really romance, because she is 12 years old ??, summary inside !
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnissaPotter/pseuds/AnissaPotter
Summary: Hello there! If you haven't read about my first year at Hogwart, do not worry, everything you need to know is right here! I am John Watson's daughter, and I live with Sherlock Holmes. My Mum died a few years ago but it's a secret, I hate to talk about it and I just mentioned it to my best friend, Neville Longbottom.I am a Gryffindor, but I had to beg the weird hat to put me there, I was supposed to go in Slytherin. But it doesn't matter, I don't believe in the concept of Houses anyways.I may or may not have a crush on Wood but it's not of your business so don't mention it! I am also friends with Potter, but only because I am afraid he is going to get manipulated by some people.Speaking of some people, I kissed Malfoy last year.Did I mention Moriarty is back?
Series: A Potter and a Watson [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925002
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Prolog

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Une fangirl, un Potter et un gros serpent](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/731748) by AnissaPotter (me). 



> Bonsoir bonsoir!
> 
> First of all, I hope you all enjoyed/are enjoying the festive season, no matter which one you're actually celebrating! I confess that I haven't enjoyed it much, spent most of the time studying and working.  
> For the first timers giving my fic a try, hello and welcome! Please be aware that English is not my mother's tongue (I am actually a French speaking Belgian) so any mistakes or comments you may have are welcome :) This is a translation of a fic I already posted on ff.net, you are welcome to spoil yourselves!  
> I started to post to improve my English but most importantly my confidence in it, and if, in the midst of all of this, you actually enjoy it, i win it all!

It’s the first day of August. Do you know what does it mean? C’mon! give it a try! Do you have any idea what it means? Do you?

Of course not, you’re behind some sort of screen and reading this between your Netflix episode is uploading. Ah! I wish I had your easy life.

Anyways, I am going to be nice and sweet for once and tell you what’s happening; Neville and Hermione are on their way!

This summer holiday was long and painful. Sherlock did not make anything explode, their cases were boring as hell and just some letters from time to time would surprise me. Don’t get me wrong, I was and am super happy to spend time at Baker Street but there is nothing worst than being stuck in an apartment and not having nothing to do. 

Sherlock is already mad at me, his nose buried in his newspaper, and sometimes he looks up just to frown his eyebrows at me. I maintain eye contact and smile even more. I kiss his cheek like I didn’t know how mad he is at me.

“Don’t forget; if you’re mean, I keep your cigarettes.”

“I’ll just buy new ones.”

“I’ll tell Mycroft.”

My dad comes in the kitchen, proudly wearing an awful sweater, at least it’s new. It is in some sort of wool, in a dark brown colour and the thing looks AWFULLY uncomfortable. But I don’t say anything, as I said, he is wearing proudly and I won’t be the one who changes that.

“Ready?” asks my Dad.

“Of course! You?”

“I think three twelve years old should be easy to handle.”

“You think wrong” mumbles Sherlock. 

“You always say that”

“You always think wrong.”

I shrug my shoulders and go by the windows, ignoring the cries of Voldy, my cat who is begging for attention. It’s not my fault, since we came back from Hogwart Mrs Hudson has been treating him as if he was her son.

I put my forehead against the windows, looking at the cars come and go. I am so excited, I have been waiting all week. After a couple of minutes, a black car parks and Hermione comes out of it. I see both of her parents look at our house and hesitate for a second. I don’t leave them the opportunity to go the other direction and rush down the stairs, opening the door at the second they knock on it.

My father almost ran down the stairs with me, pretending to be chill and stuff but almost beg the Grangers to stay for dinner. They refuse anyway and leave a shy and blushing Hermione behind. While we close the door, Sherlock stands at the top of the stairs and says dramatically.

“Her parents are dentists, was obviously bullied in…”

“Sherlock taught me how to smoke!” I say to my Dad very quickly before Hermione’s eyes can fill up with tears.

“He what?!”

“I am not sure now that I think about it, maybe if he apologized I might remember better,” I say slowly, with a huge smile.

“No way,” says Sherlock between his teeth.

My Dad is looking at us, torn apart by the fact that he doesn’t trust either of us. I know how to make a good lie and Sherlock is Sherlock, I am my Dad’s pride and joy.

“It was menthol. I think it's the name”

“I apologize,” says Sherlock super quick but his eyes are on me, promising numerous and dangerous revenge.

I smile at him, thanking him generously and dramatically. As we walk up to my bedroom:

“Where is your Mum?” asks Hermione.

I can feel Sherlock and Dad’s eyes on my neck and my smile is probably forced.

“Abroad for the month, job and stuff. My Dad and her don’t talk much.”

“Elizabeth” sighs my Dad.

“He is ashamed” I whisper to Hermione, feeling the lump in my throat growing. 

“Really?”

Hermione is not talking to me but to my Dad who pretends to not see my begging eyes. After a little while which seemed awfully long, he sighs again.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Thank you.

I have to grab Hermione by the arm once she notices all the books in Sherlock’s library but it would be asking for it if I were to let her play with it.

“I got enough in my bedroom you’ll see!”

She trusts me (at least this time) and goes into my bedroom, almost shrieking with joy when she indeed sees that I didn’t lie.

We are able to talk for a while, about our summer, about our books, our parents, and just muggle stuff in general, before there is another knock at the door.

“It’s for me!”

“We know” smiles my Dad.

Beforehand, I check that Sherlock is busy and is not going to intervene in any way, shape or form. When I open the door, I smile at Neville, who tries to smile back but it’s quite sad. His grandmother has her hand gripped (CHANGER) on his shoulder like a claw.

“Is your father here?” she demands right away.

“Yes he is, Dad!” I call.

The said Dad arrives with a professional and warm smile, trying to show with it that he is a nice and responsible doctor. Good for him.

“Mrs Longbottom, is that right?”

Her name is Longbottom too!! I hadn’t thought of that, that’s amazing! I know have to make sure that I don’t burst into laughter.

“Yes,” she says, sharply. “At what time shall I come to take him back?”

It’s only 2 pm, I answer before my Dad can.

“5 pm sounds good.”

“Very good, see you later, Neville,” she says before leaving, her back bent, her super weird hat proudly on top of her head and her clutch closely grabbed against her chest.

“See? It wasn’t so bad!” I smile at Neville.

The guy seems as if he was breathing for the first time today.

“Yes… I suppose.”

“Did you come the muggle way?”

“Mmh.. More or less, we took the baxi at some point.”

“The taxi” corrects Sherlock.

I squint my eyes, trying to threaten him to not say another word. He obeys and I take Neville to my bedroom, letting him enjoy his RETROUVAILLE with Hermione. I feel a proud mama enjoying the return of her children.

“So? How is the Boy Who Lived?”

Hermione hates when I call him that.

“He is at the Weasley’s.”

“Really? Why is that?”

Although I tried to scare his idiotic uncle and aunt, I was pretty confident that they were still going to treat Harry like garbage. I sent him some letters but I was also quite sure that his uncle and aunt were going to catch it. Sometimes I would ask my Dad to go to Privet Drive but I couldn’t see anything.

“I don’t know about anything else” she answers. “You just have to go with us to Diagon Alley to get our furniture.”

“Speaking of furniture, do any of you know Gilderoy Lockhart?”

Under my incredulous eyes, Hermione Jean Granger starts blushing like CRAZY.

“A wizard… he was in Ravenclaw… he does things so…”

The girl looks like she is wearing Seamus’s makeup to support Gryffindor at the Quidditch game.

“Is he a hero or something? Should I know him?”

“There are some books about things he has done,” says Neville. “My Grandma says he is a showoff.”

“She is probably right,” I remark. “I feel like people who do incredible things because it’s right don’t show off about it. Do you know what I mean? I am no fan of Lockhart.”

Might as well call Hermione a stupid b-word, she is looking so mad at me right now I am afraid she is going to go home early.

“Well, I have never believed Mycroft Holmes was that influent anyways, but I was nice enough to keep it for myself.”

My turn to look vexed and outraged. Neville looks like a child of divorce.

“Is that true? Well, I am going to prove it to you right away.”

Illustrating my words, I write down Mycroft’s numbers on my phone (the only number I know by heart, probably more useful that the hospital if anything were to happen), I put him on loud speaker.

“Hello,” says Mycroft, sounding pretty annoyed.

“Hello! Just out of curiosity, who was the last famous person you ate with?”

“Why would Sherlock want to know that?”

“He doesn’t, and even if he did, I would not tell him.”

“Why do you want to know that?” asks Mycroft.

“Just out of curiosity.”

“I want to know to whom you are trying to prove something.”

“Hermione Jean Granger. You met her.”

“Probably. Well, I cannot tell you who it was, the nation’s security is at stake, but the Prime Minister hosts tonight.”

“You are the best Holmes.”

“I know that.”

He hangs up. I smile at Hermione who looks completely baffled.

“Told you.”


	2. Chapter 1 or the EGO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So first, I have my freaking periods. Second, I have to see people today, like the whole Weasley family. Third, they lost Harry Potter. Fourth, Malfoy is also here! How amazing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir!
> 
> I am so sorry for the delay. For the new readers, I try to post each Saturday but I had my first exam yesterday and let me tell you my brain was f r i e d! Intellectual Property Law is not my favorite and even if it was I doubt i would have had the energy to post the chapter anyways.   
> I hope you have snow wherever you live! If you do I am so freaking jealous, I have been checking the weather channel three times a day and there is still haven't been anything ! I just want the white powder!!

Yo let me tell you about bad days and stuff; the day I am going to the Diagon Alley is also the day I am having my period. My lower back hurts like hell, my tummy is painful and I just want to kill someone. I happen to see the Weasley and Hermione today, so maybe I will find my victim. Sometimes I hate being a woman.

“Come on, Elizabeth, hurry up!” says my Dad.

I give him the most dangerous stare I am able to do.

“Can’t you see I am putting my jacket on? Is it your eyes that Sherlock uses for his experiences?”

“Well if I did he would be blind by now” answers Sherlock. “Anyways, I used the eyes of Mark Lailon, former pr…”

“Sarcasm” I explain to Sherlock.

He raises an eyebrow hearing my cold tone but does not comment. Good for him. My Dad does not seem bothered for a second by my aggressivity.

“I see someone is in a mood, mmh?”

“If you have the audacity to ask if I am having one of my “ladies days” I swear to Merlin I will make sure your inside suffer as much as mine” I threaten coldly.

Sherlock has a small smile, my Dad, too.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Seems wise.”

I go ahead and BOUSCULE him on the way, and I may or may not have sworn going down the stairs. My Dad tries to reprimand me but he does not even believe in what he is saying. I go into the first cab that comes by and gives the Muggle street closest to the Diagon Alley.

“Hermione’s parents are dentists. You can be friend with them, talk about how med school is pain and stuff.”

“And what about your other friend? Ronald?”

“His dad works at the British Ministry of Magic. Just pretend everything is normal, and it’s going to work out.”

He nods. We arrive at the Leaky Cauldron when we arrive, Tom is nice enough to open the magic passage for us, trying to discuss with my Dad but they discover quickly enough they don’t have anything in common. I liked that Tom pretends to not see that I am ready to murder someone.

As soon as we set foot in the Diagon Alley, I spot the Weasley, they are all together, accompanied by two other brown-haired adults and a young girl with the thickest brown hair you had ever seen. I join them, rubbing Ronald’s hair first thing but soon I am taken away from my Dad by a middle-aged red-haired woman with the brightest smile and the sweetest face.

“Hello, you must be Elizabeth? I am Molly Weasley.”

“Hi.. yeah, that’s right, a pleasure to meet you” I smile.

Not a fan of hugs but I might be a fan of this woman so I am going to endure it. We exchange banalities and I am soon free to go on with the Weasley & co. Ron’s sister is also here but she looks pretty shy. Once I say hi to everyone, I turn around.

“Where is the Boy Who Lived?”

“Who are you talking about?” asks my Dad.

“Harry Potter” I explain, seeing other confused looks.

“I don’t know” answers Ronald, under Hermione’s horrified eyes. “We came with floo powder but we lost him.”

The dude may or may not have lost his best friend but he seems pretty chill about it. Good for him. I can’t say that I am feeling as comfortable about it. I squint my eyes, hoping that although I might look dumb, it will help for my search for Potter.

I was wrong.

Once I see that my Dad is engaged in a fascinating discussion, his eyebrows frown and talking fast, I see that as my time to shine. I walk away as fast as possible.

Let’s play my favourite game: where is Potter?

I walk in Diagon Alley, enjoying being by myself and also taking time to admire the displays. Further away, I see a street that seems way less crowded and the crowd that is actually there looks quiet… and dangerous. The kind of place where Potter would be.

I decide to go there, trying to be discreet and not suspicious, some of these wizards look even more dangerous than some people from Sherlock homeless network. There is even one who tries to sell me some sort of potion (did you know that there are drugs for Wizards? Don’t tell Sherlock about it).

Walking faster now, I shove someone who growls.

“Be careful.”

Oh shit no.

Before I can stop myself, I look behind and Draco’s eyes widen when he recognizes me before he has a smartass smile.

“Well well well…”

“Who is that Draco? Isn't that a friend of yours?" asks his father next to him.

I cross my arms, look at his Dad from his feet to his face, taking my time to raise my eyes. 

“Not at all. Just getting some specific furniture one might need during the school year.”

“Here?” he asks.

We all got stuff to deal with, bro. Maybe my uterus needs some dark magic tampon or something.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“And your Dad and Mycroft Holmes are not with you today?” asks Lucius Malfoy with a superior smile.

“Some of us are able to do a little shopping without having Daddy by our side. But it is amazing that you are not ashamed to have your Dad as your only friend, Draco.”

Both Draco and Lucius’s face redden and it feels so good.

“Say hi to Madam Malfoy to me,” I say aristocratically before leaving them here.

As I walk back to the Diagon Alley, Hagrid stands in front of me, Harry at his side.

“I looked everywhere for you, Potter! I was sure you would look for troubles and I was right.”

“Troubles look for me” grumbles Harry behind his broken glasses.

I also say hi to Hagrid who tries his best to be mad at me for also being here but he is not very credible. I take them back to the Weasley & co and my Dad comes right at me.

“I cannot trust you, Elizabeth. I had my eyes off of you for two seconds and you just wander off like that?!”

“I just found the Wizard Saviour and you’re yelling at me in front of my friends?” I grumble looking away.

I see Fred and George and their mocking smiles. I clench my fists. My Dad follows my eyes and looks at them with a confused expression.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Somewhere else?”

He even used the military voice. Fred and George say something and leave right away. I shrug my shoulders.

“Whatever. I am fine, it’s Harry who always gets himself in troubles.”

“I am pretty sure you are his closest competition” he answers with a grown.

He sighs, still a little bit annoyed that I ran off but we both know that he is not the kind of Dad to take my hand and make sure I am always within eyesight. Dad always gave me enough independence to walk around, he is more nervous here because he doesn’t understand magic.

Neither do I now that I think of it.

The Weasley take us to Flourish & Blotts wherein a dazzling man with wavy blond hair and the fake celebrity smile. He is signing some books.

“It’s Lockhart” says Hermione softly, her voice almost trembling.

I frown my eyebrows, and look at her as if I had never seen her before, then look at my Dad hoping for some sort of explanations but I only see relief in his eyes. One could almost believe that the man thought I was also going to fall in love with that 30 something years old man.

“And what about it?”

“What do you mean ‘what about it’?” asks Mrs Weasley. “He is very famous and he is an impressive wizard.”

“I don’t know about that, but he has a very nice signature” I admit, already trying to figure out a way to do something else.

Are we going to stay in a queue to get books written on by this man? Not on my watch.

John Watson also seems ready to buy the necessary books and leave as soon as possible. The man goes on and on about all the impressive stuff he has accomplished. His voice is annoying. His stories are annoying and I want to leave so bad. Sometimes I nod, pretending to be interested because I see that Hermione observes my reactions. My Dad is looking at the different books, sometimes showing some.

At some point, Lockhart grabs Harry’s arms and makes a beautiful speech about the fact that he killed Voldemort. Then, a journalist takes a picture of the both of them, the man gives Harry free signed books and let him go.

I give Harry two thumbs-ups, whispering “lucky you” as he comes back to us. He growls and, gentleman gives the books to Ginny.

“You must be pleased, Potter?” says someone.

Oh Merlin, Draco, we got it, you have a crush on Potter but please leave him alone. Seeing Ron’s fists and Harry’s face I might not want to let them talk to Malfoy by themselves. I join them and so does Ginny, even defending Harry at some point.

“Look at that, Potter, you got yourself a girlfriend” smiles Draco. “I am surprised to see you here, Weasley. I suppose your parents won’t be able to buy your family any food after buying your books.”

Ron becomes red and his fists clench even more. I roll my eyes and look around.

“Daddy is not here to take your hands, Malfoy?”

“What about your Mum, Watson? Seems like she does not support you. We might have some things in common her and me.”

I lose my smile and step forward and Ron follows my led.

“Ron!” exclaims Mrs Weasley, coming with Fred and George.

“Elizabeth!” follows my Dad who grabs my writs and makes me step back.

“Let’s go outside” proposes Mr Weasley.

“Well, well, well, Arthur Weasley.”

Are Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy going to fight? Better; are they going to dance battle? Hopefully, I will be the one choosing the music, something with a good rhythm but… At some point, Malfoy mocks Arthur Weasley and his money and how much he admires the Muggles. My Dad decides that it is his time to intervene and mentions Mycroft Holmes. Lucius Malfoy then insulted my Dad. Long story short, they are fist fighting and my Dad is winning. Fred, George and I become their supporters.

“C’mon Dad!! Let’s go !! I know you can do it!”

Some seller from Flourish and Blotts try to break them apart but he fails and Hagrid is the one who stops the fight. Lucius Malfoy’s nose is bleeding, Arthur got a black eye and my Dad got some scratches on his checks.

“Congrats Dad” I smile, handing him some tissues.

Drago blushes with shame and his Dad pushes him as he tries to leave with some sort of dignity. Lockhart asks the journalist if he is going to talk about the fight, because any promotion is a good one. George hears it too and we go see the imbecile.

Even Anderson is not as stupid.

“What are you going to do?” asks George.

“What I do best: lie.”

I take a deep breathe and try to be the cliché fangirl. I cross my arms, have a shy smile and even stutter a little.

“Excuse me… Sir?”

When he looks down at me, I immediately look away and rub my cheeks as if I was blushing.

“Is… everything you wrote in your books… true?”

George plays the game and looks at Lockhart with big impressed eyes. Lockhart nods with a fake smile and I giggle a little.

“You must be so smart,” I say, with a very admirative voice.

“Obviously, not everyone is able to do something like that.”

That’s for sure.

“So why the fuck would you need to mention a fight to have a good promotion?” I ask coldly. “Shouldn’t your amazing accomplishment be enough, mmh? You saw the fight, and you decide to not intervene but yet wants to make sure that it is mentioned? Maybe you should have gone and try to break them off, don’t you think?”

His time to stutter.

“Well… I suppose but..”

“We have to go now” smiles George. “A pleasure to meet you, of course.”

We turn our back to him, smile at each other and I go to my father who has a very proud expression on his face.

“You ok?” I ask.

“I am proud of you.”

“I might be proud of you too” I laugh.

“I sure hope so” he grumbles, rubbing his fingers on the scratches.

When we arrive at Baker Street, Sherlock seems at first confused that we left to begin with, and then confused by the scratches.

“What happened?”

“I protected my daughter.”

“Cheesy” I grumble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!! I love Lockhart, I love writing him and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you did you can always leave a kudo, you have now idea how happy it makes whenever I see you enjoyed my work!!


	3. Chapter 2 or Where are they?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back to Hogwart! (this could be a good song, don't you think?) I thought that a simple train ride could be simple but I forgot that Hogwart is worst that an episode of the Kardashians. Ron and Harry are nowhere to be found and Hermione believes that they don't like her anymore.  
> So, now, I gotta find them to kick their asses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir!
> 
> Would you believe me if I told you I had... another exam? Well, i did! Two Saturdays in a row, and this time it was EU Law and "in class" exam. I have a headache, I am super tired and so so ready for bed. This chapter was quite nice to write but exhausting as well, the original French version was very short so I re-wrote the whole thing.   
> I am almost falling asleep on my couch ugh, still, I hope you like! I very much do!

My Dad has been particularly affectionate lately, which always means there is something wrong, and usually he got himself a girlfriend. I mentioned it to Sherlock but he didn’t seem worried. Still, the man offered to buy me expensive clothes, as many books as I could desire and even more. I did take the offer for books but was just a little sceptical by the others. What is going on?

I pretend I don’t know but I do know. In August, each day that passes meant that my Dad would be even more clingy the next. Always rubbing my shoulders when he passed by me, proposing as many activities one could think of. The last day of August he even organized a small goodbye party, with Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and Sherlock. The latter decided to join us two hours late but did arrive so that’s what matters.

But now we’re at the stations, and the man already hugged me twice and there are so many hugs I can take, and it was too many. Sherlock just nods coldly to me when I tell him goodbye. My Dad was ready to ask to take his hug but I don’t let him.

“Well that’s it… be nice while I am away!”

I wave at them, take my backpack, my trunk, and Voldy’s cage before walking to the train with difficulty. I stop my Dad before he can even offers to walk my trunk to the train.

I see the Weasleys looking a little bit worried further away, hopefully, they haven’t lost Potter already. I am too tired for social effusions so I will not salute them today.

I go into the car sighing a little seeing my Dad raising on his feet to stop me. It was cute at first but it’s exhausting. We do not have that kind of family dynamic. Also, I am going to have that kind of schedule for a couple of years, gotta get used to it Daddy. I see Sherlock rolling his eyes and showing my Dad where I am. As he spots me, he waves at me and Sherlock has the littlest mocking smile. I wave back at my Dad, ignoring Sherlock.

Once the train finally starts, I walk around trying to find either friends or enemies and enjoy their companies. After a while, I see Hermione, her forehead against the window and tears filling up her eyes. I frown and come in without knocking at the door.

“Hermione?”

“Oh!”

She quickly swipes the tears off her eyes and tries to smile at me, reassuring.

“It’s good to see you.”

Her eyes are still red, her voice is shaking.

“Are you already missing your parents?”

“Yes but.. don’t worry about it.”

Like hell, I won’t. I sit down anyways, freeing Voldy from his cage. He seems pretty thankful, and I observe Hermione. Her eyes are red, her nails are bitten and she is trying to look away, a smile fake smile on her lips. What’s going on? You know I am not buying the bull…”

“Ron and Harry are mad at me.”

“What? What for? Did you make them do homework in advance? If so, they may be right.”

“No… but look!”

I look around without understanding.

“Yeah?”

“They are not here. They are staying together an-and leaving me alone…”

She keeps her eyes on the book she is holding, I can see the shame and the heartbreak making her cheeks reddened.

“You must be right.”

“What?”

“Harry and Ron probably hate you. That is why they let you hang with them last year, invited you to go buy furniture with them. It’s just a whole scheme and not about the fact that you are a very likeable person.”

She blushes but shrugs her shoulders.

“Then where are they?”

Good question.

“More likely that they are in troubles, rather than hating you.”

I stand up, looking through the window. I do love this train ride, not only are the landscapes amazing but there’s always something to do.

“I did see Ron’s family, but they looked kind of worried. And they arrived as I was going into the Hogwart Express, so almost late. I think they got themselves into some sort of troubles. They always do when you’re not with them.”

As soon as I finish my sentence, Neville comes in timidly.

“Big Pee Pee!”

He relaxes and shows me the candies he just bought.

“Thought you would like it.”

“You are the best, do you know that?”

The boy blushes a lot. Neville sits down, distributing candies like Santa Claus. I accept gratefully the Chocolatefrog. We hear a knock on the door, and see Ron’s little sister. I open.

“Percy is doing prefect stuff and Fred and George told me to find Ron… I can’t find him, can I stay here?”

“Of course, make yourself comfortable!”

Ginny seems pretty shy, which surprises me a little, with that many brothers, she probably knows how to fight but right now she is mostly blushing.

“You are Ginny, right?” asks Hermione.

She nods.

“Well, I am Elizabeth Watson, and this is Hermione Granger, but you already met us. The guy behind me is Neville Longbottom, don’t be too impressed with his intimidating attitude, it’s just a facade, he is pretty chill.”

“I am not intimidating!” says Neville.

“You just spoiled it for her, congrats!” I grumble before sitting down and smiling at Ginny. “Well, Ginny, what’s your name?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Everyday Weasley got a nickname, but I am interested in your full name.”

Her eyes widened and Ginny seems embarrassed. I smile even more.

“I won’t tell Harry.”

Her ears reddened. I see this is a family quirk. Cute.

“Ginevra,” she says very softly.

“Like in The Godfather!”

Everyone seems confused. I roll my eyes.

“C’mon Hermione, you know what I am talking abut, right?”

“My parents don’t let me watch the movie..”

“It’s not in the movie, it’s in the book! There is this famous singer and his ex-wife’s name is Ginevra. Although they are not together anymore they still liked each other.”

They all nod, it’s not like they can participate in the conversation, they don’t know what I am talking about.

Maybe I do miss my Dad, watching movies together is kind of our thing. I am not saying that no other child watches movies with their dad(s), but I am pretty sure we are the only ones who have to make sure Sherlock is going to let us enjoy our movie.

When we finally put our robes on, I notice that Ginny has a brand new one, not like Ronald having to use his brothers’. I am happy for her, I suppose her parents wanted to be a little special with their only daughter. Ginny has to leave us when we arrive, following Hagrid but sometimes looking at us, pretty nervous.

Neville, Hermione and I have to take a magic coach, they just move by themselves. Dumbledore is showing off yet again. The castle is even more pretty than I remembered, the lights glowing in the dark, even if I didn’t know I would believe that it was a magic castle.

I go to the Gryffindor table, although I remember that the last time I was there, all my Gryffindor colleagues wanted to kill me and I had to sit at the Slytherin table. The good old days. I hope they forgot. I frown when I see that Harry and Ron aren’t here, starting to worry for real. I look at the teachers’ table, searching Snape and frown even more.

There he is.

The idiot at the book signing.

He is sitting next to Snape who looks like he is about to murder him. I kind of hope so. Feeling eyes on him, Snape directly spots me. He seems already mad, calm down dude, it’s only the 1st of September. I smile at him. He looks annoyed.

“See,” says Hermione. “They’re not here.”

“Which means they’re in troubles.”

Fred and George sit next to us.

“Did you see Ron and Harry?”

“So now you’re starting to look for them?” I ask mockingly, was about time.

George (I think) has a malicious smile and waves at someone.

“Wood! There is a free spot here!”

“You had the whole summer to come up with new jokes and you’re still stuck on Wood?”

“We probably won’t find anything as funny” answers Fred.

I am going to kill someone. I just don’t know who. I look around and see at the Slytherin table, my one true love. When Malfoy looks back at me I wave at him with a tender smile. Neville seems horrified.

“What? I missed him.”

“You’re weird.”

Can’t argue with that, now, can I?

First, the first years are given their houses. The Scary Hat came up with a new song, and it’s stupid as the old one. Really can’t say that I am surprised with it. Ginny went to Gryffindor! Hurray! I listen to Dumbledore’s speech with little attention. Nothing new, it’s about cohesion, respect of the rules, although the old man gave points to Potter & co for breaking every single one of them last year. He also mentions something about learning from our past mistakes and growing up, or whatever.

When he mentions the new hire, Lockhart, I hear some of the girls giggle, even some boys. I believe Quirrell was a better teacher than this idiot, even if he had Voldemort with him. Hermione seems completely and utterly in love.

I roll my eyes. Neville, Fred and George too.

“Not a fan of him either?” asks Neville.

“Elizabeth also threatened him last time she saw him” smiles George.

“I told you about it Neville, and the fight my Dad had!”

“You shouldn’t threaten a teacher, Elizabeth,” remarks Hermione.

“I didn’t know he was one when I did, did I?”

I doubt it would have changed anything.

As dinner starts, everyone starts telling about their summer and what they did. I listen without mentioning mine, I would not say it was boring nor annoying, but I don’t have any travels to tell about. It stayed home with my Dad and his almost-boyfriend.

I see Snape standing up, right after Filch whispered something in his ear. I am pretty sure it is Harry related. And my suspicions are confirmed when Merlin discount and Minerva leave the room soon after. I feel like this year is going to be a freaking adventure.

When dinner ends, I go to the common room, trying to persuade Fred and George to give a try to Muggle jokes and hoaxes; they are pretty sceptical. Joke on them. Literally.

“You’re not going to bed?” asks Hermione when she sees me settling down in the sofa’s common room.

“Got a letter to write” I smile. “Coming soon.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And now, I wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed it, don't hesitate to leave a kudo, if you didn't, constructive criticisms are always welcome but not constructive will make me cry!  
> Also if you are looking to improve your French or if you don't mind watching TV shows with subtitles, I advice you to watch "Lupin" on Netlix!! ;)


	4. Chapter 3 or Ass Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was happy to see that we have herbology today! Well, I was actually happy for Neville, but anyways. What did bother me though, was that we had a class with this Lockhart and this idiot gave us a test about himself! Can you believe it? Well, I might have done something... which I am not proud of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir bonsoir!!
> 
> A chapter I loved to write then and I absolutely loved to write now! I am still having exams (can you believe it? neither can I), but there are some things looking brighter! I had snow these past few days and it was a blast! I have also read three books in the span of two weeks (it's been a while since something like that happened) and I knitted a sweater vest, a beanie and I am starting a sweater! I received the book "Harry Potter: Knitting magic" and there is the pattern for a Weasley sweater!! If anyone is interested, I have found the pattern for free (in English) and if someone wants it in French... I might help too ;)

Harry and Ron finally arrive. They are laughing and talking to each other, oblivious to the situation. What is the situation you ask? Hermione thought the boys abandoned her, and who am I to say that she made it up? They were not on the Hogwart Express and no one knows why.

As they come in, the students still in the common room run towards them and hear everything about their excuses and whatever. Once they are on, I roll my eyes and ignore their arrogant attitude.

“Yeah” smiles Ron. “We thought you would be mad at us for not letting you know. But, it’s not like we could anyways.”

“You idiots,” I say softly before whispering. “You let Hermione alone, she thought you weren’t friends with her anymore.”

Harry frowns his eyebrows and Ron immediately loses his smile.

“Really?” he asks.

“Yes, really! Couldn’t you… I don’t know… wait for Mr and Mrs Weasley, or any adult wizard for that matter. Maybe send a letter to Dumbledore, go to the Diagon Alley? USE THE BRAIN YOU WERE GIVEN!”

The whole room is silent, the boys are admiring their own toes, but I don’t care. I cross my arms and stare at them as coldly as possible.

“We’re sorry” begins Ron. “We didn’t think of it, we just thought it was the best thing to do and we did it…”

“I was worried about you, I am thrilled you’re alive, and you better apologize to Hermione too.”

I smile at them both and leave them here before they can fully realize what just happened. Hermione is already snoring and Lavander and Parvati are whispering things to one another.

“What were you doing down there?” asks Parvati.

“Catching up, enjoying the common room, … The good stuff.” I answer looking around and having no desire to unpack my things tonight. “Might sleep in my underwear tonight. Are you guys ok with that?”

Although a little confused, they are okay with it. Great.

I take off my clothes and make myself comfortable.

The next morning, I find Neville waiting for me in the common room, handing me my schedule. I examine it, sceptical and see that I was right to be so. Nothing exciting. I have a class with Lockhart in the afternoon, I believe I am more impatient to have History of magic. Lockhart's class promises to be both annoying and boring, which is magical by itself I suppose. Maybe I could do a Sherlock, although I need to figure out what would Sherlock do. Probably not go in class to start with. But if he was forced to go, he would probably make sure he wouldn’t have to go again.

Neville and I go to the Great Hall, he explains to me what are his goals and objectives for this year’s herbology class. I sit in front of Hermione and drink two glasses of pumpkin juice before eating anything. I missed it so much.

Ron and Harry arrive soon enough and Hermione salutes them as dryly as humanly possible. Harry seems to be confused but Ronald got no subtility and smiles at her before sitting down. He looks down at her schedule and frowns her eyebrows.

“Why did you put hearts around Lockhart’s name?”

“What?!” she says loudly and blushing. “Nothing!”

She runs away, holding her books and schedule close to her heart. I roll my eyes up in the magic sky.

“I can forgive her, but c'mon…”

“We have herbology!” smiles Neville. “I got so many questions to ask Professor Sprout.”

I turn my head and look at Longbottom, with a huge desire to hug him. He really is the best and I am so thankful to have him around.

I grab my backpack, take the last bite of my toast and follow Neville till greenhouse number 3, which is forbidden to First years. It feels good to grow up, but I would love to see what it’s like to be in Fourth year, it must be interesting.

I listen to Neville without much attention, the questions he is asking Professor Sprout are too intense for me. I look at some weird plants which look like wrinkled babies: like an old green potato. Slowly but surely, the other students finally arrive. But I am not completely stupid, I am letting Neville sitting right next to Sprout and I go in the midst of all the students, trying to blend myself away.

Sprout got a thing with me, maybe she is jealous of my friendship with Neville but I might fill for harassment. I don’t mind plants and everything but I would not say I have a green thumb.

I am facing Ron and Harry, Ronald is looking at Hermione, still confused and probably wondering what were these hearts about. The last students finally arrive, and they have no choice but the seats left and one of them is the one next to me, it's a girl from Hufflepuff. But I don't complain about my neighbour, right next to Harry some dude from Hufflepuff who is bragging about almost getting into Eton.

So you're rich, what about it?

Hermione answers all the questions, and I see some students rolling their eyes up. Imma fight them. After we put our earmuffs on, a scream coming straight from the deepest pits of hell stops the both of us.

Neville faints, falling right on the ground. 

“Mister Longbottom must have put his earmuffs wrong”

I hear Malfoy chuckles and hit him with my elbow in the ribs. He looks at me like he could kill me. I hold his eye look till my yes hurt and look away, asking Sprout.

“What happened? Is he dead?”

“No, do not worry, the mandrakes are still young, he is just knocked out”

And they are still trying to convince me that this castle is safe. What the actual fuck?

The rest of the class is a blur, I am not interested and I just want it to end so that we can go to the infirmary and take care of him. Sprout accompanies us and discusses even a little with Pomfrey as the latter takes care of him. Once I am sure he is in good hands, I go to the owlery.

What? Me being daddy’s little girl?

What about it? 

“ _Hello Dad,_

_You are probably surprised to already get a letter from me. I am neither missing nor getting bullied. Everything is fine. I just hope you are too. I feel like last year and the whole “the teacher was actually Voldemort” scared me a little and I just want to make sure you are ok._

_Don’t worry, our teacher this year is just an absolute idiot._

_So, here we go: I love you. I love Sherlock too but no need to tell him, just let him know that I will take care of that idiot teacher as well as he would have. I will also let both of you know if anything weird happens._

_Tell everyone I miss them! Especially Mrs Hudson. They should enjoy Cheesy Elizabeth while it lasts. Let Mycroft know he will be the first I think of when I do something stupid._

_I am making a list of stupid teenage movies I will put on as soon as I get him, just to torture Sherlock a little. No need to tell him that either. I am already thinking of High School Musical. I think he is going to l-o-v-e it._

_Gotta go, class and tuff. Feed Frodo, I feel like he likes you a lot._

_Love,_

_El._ ”

Super cheesy. I am pretty sure he is going to love it, so I send it anyways and go back to the Great Hall, humming some Frank Sinatra. I sit at the Gryffindor table and open my book, reading it as I eat my lunch.

I was nice, pretty sociable and even wrote a sweet letter, I need some time alone now. I see and hear a dark red-letter screaming at Ron but I can’t say I am surprised. Ronald’s mother does not seem like the kind of mum would let “stealing Dad’s car” go under the rug. I also notice a first year talking to Harry and stepping back, looking pretty disappointed.

“You ok?” I ask him.

He sighs dramatically and shrugs his shoulders.

“I wanted a signature but he refused.”

“…. Did he?” I ask with as much compassion as I can. “I am Harry Potter’s manager, and I know he can sometimes be a pain about it. You know what? I will give you a signature for free, for the nuisance. But tell the others it’s one galleon.”

I search and search down my backpack and finally found it, one of the letters Harry wrote to me during the summer. I tear down his signature (“Sincerely, Harry P.”) The kid is almost crying of joy and I leave before he can hug me, not hearing to the whole thank you speech.

I don’t want to arrive too early to Lockhart’s class, so I wait a little in the park and arrive last. I see I had no reason to do the whole “last arrived” drama, because Lockhart is a diva, and not here anyways. I sigh and sit down at a desk.

Lockhart finally enters and does some sort of speech, which I don’t listen to before handing us all a test. I wonder what it is about.

Oh no he didn’t…

He fucking did. He did. I see Hermione writing down answers as fast as possible and I have to physically stop myself from taking her quill off her hand.

“Sir?”

“Yes?” he answers with a soft smile before recognizing me and losing his sugar-coated smile.

But he does come closer.

“Is there something you don’t understand?”

“A couple, yes… Do you have any respect for your students?”

“Of course I do” he answers, frowning his eyebrows.

“Do you have any respect for yourself then?”

I can see in his eyes that he does not like my line of questioning. Like I care.

“What are you insinuating?” he asks.

“I wonder what was the interests of making every student buy every single of your books.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Young lady, I-…”

“Also” I add, without even blinking. “What kind of man makes sure his twelves years old students know what is his favourite colour? I suppose the answer could be found in one of your books. I do wonder if there is any good and useful information in any of them or if it just you talking about you and how awesome YOU are. Not only you are trying to manipulate your young audience, but you are also trying to make personal information about you actual material of this class. Which is at best, insulting for us. At worst, completely dangerous for our learning.”

I make a dramatic pause in my speech. I don’t look around but, in the corner of my eyes, I can see Hermione’s face red of anger. I suppose Neville is worried for me. Ronald is going to kiss me, I just know it.

I also know that everyone is holding their breaths, waiting for my big end.

Should I?

My dad is going to kill me. Mycroft is going to put my head in his dining room, like a deer head.

“Since you like ass kissers so much, you might wanna get a dog or any other animal interested in that part of your anatomy because I am not going to do it myself.”

Lockhart is almost translucid, he stutters something which I cannot understand, his voice is choked a little. He grabs me by the collar and takes me out of the classroom. I send a kiss to my good old audience on my way.

He takes me straight to the teachers room in which Minerva is sipping her tea. Oh shit. Could I be expelled? Is my dad going to receive a letter telling him I am going home right after my cheesy letter?

Snape is sitting next to Minerva, reading an old and huge book. He has a mean grin.

“I wonder what Watson did… already,” he says, mockingly.

McGonagall looks tired and ready to kill me.

I get that.

“Pretty sure you’re going to like it” I mumble to myself, but I am sure he heard it.

“Wait for us outside” orders Lockhart and Snape and McGonagall both raise an eyebrow at his cold tone.

I obey. After a few minutes, Severus comes out of the room and … he is smiling? He looks down at me and I see a genuine smile for a millisecond. Minerva arrives a couple of minutes later and takes me to her office as Lockhart goes back to class.

When the door closes, and once McGonagall is sitting down, I look at my toes.

“Professor, I agree that my behaviour was both excessive and completely rude. I also agree that excuses are not always enough, nevertheless I hope you can let me give you two reasons why I did what I did.”

I shyly look up and she nods, I keep going.

“One of the excuses is actually more of a… remark. I was put in Gryffindor, which is the House of the braves, but also stupid and impulsive decisions… I suppose. The second reason is that… I believe we are deserving of good teachers. I can recognize that a good teacher can come in all shapes and forms. I am personally fond of Professor Snape who, although sometimes unfair, is great at teaching us. But Professor Lockhart gave us a quiz, a test, about himself and… What he likes. Some students had to buy a ton of books, even though not all of us have that much money so that he could ask us what he wore when he fought a particular creature? I don’t think that’s … right. I will accept any punishment. Not being expelled though. I might appeal that.”

She is looking at me, there is no emotion on her face. I am going to either cry or piss myself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! What did you think? Don't hesitate to tell me if you didn't like anything! If you enjoyed it you can always leave a kudo, it makes me so so happy and motivates me so much to post!!


	5. Chapter 4 or The Punition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did I ask Lockhart if he wanted a dog to get a proper ass kisser? Yes. Did he deserve it? Also yes. Do I regret it? More difficult to answer, McGonagall seems pretty pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir!!
> 
> I am finally DONE with exams which means that I don't have two, nor three but one single week off!! :)) I am trying to appreciate it but I am going to be honest: it is not enough. i want and need more, i am so fucking tired, I love uni, I love what I study but I need rest. I finished exams yesterday and slept twelve hours in a row (I am not someone who does all nighter, I usually sleep seven hours/night even during exams, so.... it's not like i was lacking sleep anyways)  
> Also I finally started Parks and recreations and h-e-l-l-o Ben Wyatts <3 I love u

Professor McGonagall is staring at me for a full minute, just staring me down. I decided that looking her in the eyes was not a risk worth taking, I am contemplating my own feet, hoping that she starts talking soon. She finally does.

“I will explain to your father what happened, and you will have two weeks of detention.”

“Two weeks? You mean twice more than Ron and Harry which disrespect the school rules and almost reveal a secret kept for centuries?”

It was risky, and a little bit shady to betray them this way. I am afraid she going to fire me for real. She rolls her eyes and mutters.

“One week and an apology letter.”

An apology letter? What am I going to apologize for? Being right? Professor McGonagall seems to think for a second.

“What was the test about?”

“His favourite colour… stuff like that.”

“No apology letter” she mumbles, seeming angry but not at me. “A week of detention.”

“Thank you so much, Professor,” I say, feeling my chest free from some sort of weight and finally able to breathe normally.

“Not again, Watson.”

“I will do my best”, I promise. 

She has a little smile and as I leave the room, I realize that she is going to tell my Dad still. I would not dare to negotiate that part but I am pretty nervous. I am nervous when Mycroft is going to find out. He has this way of believing that my messes are his to fix. Or that what I do actually affects how he is perceived.

Calm down, buddy.

I go back to the common room, I don’t think Lockhart wants me back anyways. In the common room, some Sixth years are enjoying their free times and the lack of homework to hand in, talking, playing cards and reading.

“Already back from classes?” asks Perceval.

“Yeah, I was kicked from the Defence Against the Dark Arts class.”

“How can you be kicked by Lockhart?” smiles Wood.

I look at him, with a malicious smile and try to be as Holmes-y as possible.

“By being twelve years old and asking him if he wants to get a dog to have a proper kiss ass by his sides.”

Wood loses his smiles and Percy might have lost his respect in me (if he had any, to begin with). Poor little boys.

“You must be kidding…”

“Do I look like I am?”

Percy Weasley is not saying anything, the guy is completely white (I mean, more than usual) and his mouth is open as he is trying to comprehend what I just said. He finally nods slowly and leaves the room.

Did I break him?

“But.. How could you?” asks Wood.

“What do you mean “how could I”, that is what he wants, an ass kisser. He is arrogant, thinks he is better than everyone else and yet a complete idiot. We deserve a better teacher than that.”

“I agree on this point, even Quirrell was better” he answers.

“Minus the Voldemort part of things?”

“Minus that I suppose.”

He does seem unsettled that I said Voldemort but refuses to look scared.

“I must now leave and hide” I announce. “Hermione is going to try to find me as soon as this class finishes and I need to be somewhere else.”

Wood laughs a little and let me go.

I go to my dormitory, welcomed by Voldy who is apparently starving. He is so dramatic, he took from Sherlock. I feed him and sigh.

“Dad and Hermione are going to kill me.”

Voldy looks up at me.

“I swear, she is going to physically beat me up. I might try to break my own leg, she might have pity then.”

He purrs.

“No, no, not the arm, I need both of them anyways. But my legs? It’s not like I use them for sports or anything. Many people will have pity on me if I have to use crutches”

“ELIZABETH WATSON!”

Merlin helps me, or any deities for that matter, I am not picky. I push Voldy away and lay on my bed, trying to look dead or something. If it works for possum, why couldn’t it work for me?

“HOW COULD YOU?!” she screams as she comes in.

I don’t answer.

“ELIZABETH!”

“I am dead. I do give Voldy to Harry, I feel like that would be funny.”

She shakes my arm until I grumble and sit down.

“Stop that!”

She is starring at me, fists on her hips and pinched lips, waiting for an explanation. She is so scary I look away.

“Well… what do you want me to say? He is a joke! Why are you just arriving? Padma arrived a few minutes ago… did you stay behind?”

I am nervous suddenly.

“Hermione…. Tell me you didn’t apologize for me. Please, tell you didn’t.”

She looks annoyed.

“Of course I didn’t, he had brought Pixies and they escaped and…”

I blink.

“What do you mean “they escaped”?”

She blushes and looks away.

“Seamus said a stupid comment and he wanted to show that pixies were actually dangerous.”

“You mean twelve years old said something stupid, he took it personally and he decided to prove that these creatures were dangerous… by freeing them?”

“Yes.”

“In a classroom full of twelve years old?”

“… yes.”

I wait for her to realize how dumb he is but she looks at me in the eyes and does not seem to change her mind.

“Maybe it’s because of what you said that he wanted to prove something!”

“We are twelve years olds, besides saying dumb hurtful things, we don’t do much else.”

“That is not the question! How could you?”

“I am glad I did anyways, seeing how the rest of the class went, it was well deserved.”

She has the most “Know-It-All” look on her face and contradicting her is very difficult at this point. She finally asks, her voice full of worry:

“Are you expelled?”

“I presented my arguments, stay polite and respectful because Professor McGonagall does deserve respect and she listened to me.”

“You are not answering my question,” she notices.

“I got a week of detention.”

She looks disappointed? That seems like a betrayal if you ask me.

“I thought she was more fair than that…”

“She is perfectly fair” I respond, grinning.

“Don’t tell Ron what you received, he is going to do the same.”

Yes Mummy.

I decide that I don’t want to see if she is going to ground me and go to the common room where Ron, Seamus and Fred and George applaud me. I laugh and bow. Harry is smiling next to them. Meanwhile, Neville seems mad at me, I look away and enjoy my fan club which is 90% composed of red-headed and 10% of Irish accent.

Fred and George shake my hands.

“We heard what happened.”

“It seems beautiful, it is a pity we miss.”

“We love having a challenger.”

A challenger?

Lee Jordan ruffles my hair.

I let them do, blushing a little and trying to stop myself from giggling which would make me lose all of my credibility.

I spend the rest of the day with Ron, Dean and Seamus. At the banquet, I notice Harry sitting down away from us. I frown my eyebrows and go see him.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, everything is fine” he smiles. “It is just nice to not be the centre of attention for once.”

“Next time I talk back to a teacher I will just add that you were the one making me.”

He smiles a little bit more but doesn’t say anything.

“Is Neville mad at me?” I ask.

“I don’t think so. But the pixies picked him up by the ears.”

“What? Seriously?”

He nods. I look around and run towards my best friend who is sitting next to Lavender Brown. I put myself in between, ignoring Lavender’s outraged scream.

“Are you ok?”

“You were completely rude with Lockhart” he starts.

I am sure he prepared his speech.

“But it is nice to see that you remember we are friends.”

“I am so sorry..”

I see that the tip of his ear is red-ish.

“I heard what the pixies did… are you ok?”

“Yes, I am fine.”

“I am so sorry Neville, for real. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s ok.”

I am not sure it is but I see he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Some owls arrive in the Great Hall, a letter falls on my plate. I look at the writing on the envelope, it’s not my Dad.

Sherlock?

_“Elizabeth,_

_You will soon learn that Professor Dumbledore has some means of communication faster than your usual owl. Your father knows about the incident already, and so do I._ _Sherlock wants you to know that he is proud but I am afraid my dear brother does not have the best advice nor the best behaviour in general._

_I am sure Dr Watson will send his own letter soon enough, but you may already guess the state in which he finds himself._

_Anyways, that is not the point of my letter. My letter is a warning, something is happening regarding the Defence against the dark arts teachers, there has not been the same teacher two years in a row. The Ministry of Magic is also agitating, some sort of schools competition has been mentioned._

_Keep being noticed the way you are noticed now, and any sort of “investigation” Sherlock and you may have will fail. Not that I want you to investigate anything, but I hope you keep an eye on Professor Dumbledore._

_Sincerely,_

_Mycroft H.”_

Could he be any more annoying?

“You idiot.”

“Who was it?” asks Ron, his mouth full.

Hermione and I exchanged a disgusted look before she remembers that she is mad at me and puts her nose back into her book.

“The brother of my uncle.”

“So … your uncle?” says Ron.

“I guess.”

“He already knew about what you did?” notices Harry, who reads the letter above my shoulder.

“He is the government” mocks Hermione.

“What?” asks Ron.

“He works for the government” I correct. “But he knows lots of stuff: proof, he already knew for the incident with Lockhart.”

I may be showing off but it’s kind of badass, right? Plus, Mycroft got some sort of badass attitude too.

I love being the rebel of the group, everyone is asking what will I do next, I have no idea. To be honest, if I do something next my Dad might have as well come to Hogwart and yell at me in person.

I hope he never learns what are howlers and how do they work.

Wood passes by and also ruffles my hair.

“I thought about it, Elizabeth, it was kind badass.”

He just ruins my flow just like that. I blush and nod, trying to say something but only stutters come out of my mouth.

“Ah… really?”

“Really.”

He also reminds Harry they have quidditch tomorrow. I may or may not ask if I could come with the most stupid small voice possible. I hate how stupid I sound.

Wood accepted. That’s at least something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alors? What did you guys think? Do not hesitate to let me know! Thank you for the kudos :) see you next week <3


	6. Chapter 5 or Bullying is not as bad as I said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detention with Snape was not half as bad. The training of the Gryffindor team was not even half good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour bonjour!
> 
> Why am I late you ask? You guys! I finally finished knitting my Mrs. Weasley sweater! Yesterday I finished one of the sleeves and assembled everything while finishing Parks and recreations (hello Ben Wyatt I love u)! It's so beautiful and cozy! If you are interested, I have a full pattern in French and found one in English online! Would love to share!  
> Today I made bread!! And walked six miles (10 km if you use to proper system), busy as a bee you know (jk, being unproductive makes me feel so guilty i need to do something every second of the day)

“May I put gloves on to scrub the cauldron, Professor?”

Snape’s eyes leave the homework he was correcting and looks at me, I see in his grin that there is no chance that man is going to let me put gloves on.

“No” he says softly but firmly, his joy visible in his eyes.

I clench my jaws and start scrubbing the cauldron, trying to persuade myself that this moment will pass quickly enough although it has only been ten minutes and I am going to scrub for two big hours. Sometimes I wish I would have Malfoy’s Dad to save me from this kind of situations. But mine is neither famous nor powerful (at least in the wizard world) and Mycroft would probably ask that I get a punishment even worst.

Maybe I could make this evening a little bit more amusing.

“So… what’s your zodiac sign, Professor?”

He doesn’t even look at me. I do hear a sigh.

“If you don’t want to tell me your birthday, that’s fine. Just the sign.”

“Watson, stay silenced or I will make the next one even worst.”

Typical libra.

I am kidding, I don’t think he is a libra.

Scrub scrub scrub. At some point I start singing “It’s a hard knock life”, you will be interested to know that I am awful at singing. Snape remarks it quicker than expected.

“Watson” he threatens.

Didn’t know it was possible for my name to sound that threatening.

“So, I am an only child, and it is not really a bother, I don’t think my Dad would be able to handle two children anyways. You met the guy.”

I am so freaking bored, I hate doing one thing at a time, I feel like my brain is going to explode or something.

I glance at Snape, he is rubbing his temples and he looks exhausted. I could almost feel bad for him. On the other hand, I just want to bond. What would I tell him if he seemed just a little bit more nice?

“So, why teaching potions? I mean, you don’t seem to like students all that much, so…”

“Are you insinuating I am a bad teacher?” he asks dangerously.

He does ask though. I am gaining some ground.

“Not at all, but I don’t think students are your favourite part of teaching.”

“I like the material, that is all.”

“I like it too, chemistry but make it badass.”

He does not answer. I am not going to insist, we must stay on a positive note. I see no confusion in his eyes when I mention chemistry, he is either very involved in muggle culture or half blood. Would lean for the second option.

At the end of the detention, as I am cracking my fingers and going to the door, I hear a subtle but certain.

“Watson.”

Even saying good night? Man, he is in love with me!

“Good night, Professor,” I respond, unable to hide my smile.

Going back to my dormitory, I am happy (no) to see a letter gently put on my bed. I recognized the writing immediately, rough and sloppy. My Dad finally wrote to me about the Lockhart incident. I sigh loudly and let myself fall onto my bed before opening the letter.

“ _Elizabeth,_

 _I really enjoyed your last letter, too bad it was followed by a call from Mycroft and then a letter from Hogwart. I choose to wait before writing back to you. I was both shocked and disappointed by your behaviour. This time, you cannot tell me Sherlock asked you to do so, he was as surprised as me._ ”

Fair enough but if he knew the man, he probably asked me to do.

Let’s keep going.

“ _I also want you to know that I would have liked a letter from YOU to explain what had happened and maybe apologize? Although I am not sure an apology would have been enough._

_The school may have already punished you but I will also add my own when you can back: Christmas or no Christmas. The forgiving spirit is just something Mrs. Hudson made up._

_Your father._

_PS:_

_I miss you too_.”

At the back of the letter, the writing is different, thinner and smaller.

“ _Well played. -SH_ ”

I contain my smile and look at Sherlock’s congratulations for a while before putting my pyjamas on. What should I have explained to my Dad? The teacher should not be teaching in the first place? He is an idiot? My Dad would tell me that I should stay quiet, although he punched a policeman for making fun of Sherlock. 

When I put my head on the pillow I realize how tired I am and I fall asleep within a second.

Today is the first training of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I am in the tribunes, enjoying the fresh air and the show. Hermione and Ron are also here and we brought some snacks to share while admiring the team. But, for now, the field lacks players, quidditch and Wood.

“So, what did the letter say?” asks Hermione.

“What letter?” I answer absently, trying to eat the last piece of dark chocolate before Ron.

“The one I put on your bed.”

“Oh…”

I grumble.

“Parents. My Mum. She was mad, as expected.”

“How was your detention with Snape?” adds Ron.

I shrug my shoulders.

“Could have been worst, honestly, but not very fun.”

If I tell them I have a shot of making Snape my other best friend, they are not going to like it, I keep it to myself. Harry finally arrives on the field.

“Not done, yet?” says Ron, surprised.

“We still haven’t started!” answers Harry, seeming annoyed, and jealous looking at our candies. “Wood spent his time talking about his new strategy.”

I frown my eyebrows, and say, hoping to be credible:

“Must have been important”

Harry looks at me, both tired and ready to punch me, didn't know he was capable of such look. Thankfully Wood arrives and so do the other players. I hear some weird noises and spot Colin Crivey not far away, flashing Harry with his camera. I see that the players are not loving having a full-time photograph and especially Wood and Potter.

Like the courageous knight that I am, I stand up and go to Crivey.

“Colin, I don’t remember you asking for taking these pictures.”

The boy looks so scared right now. I might look mean, should work on that and make sure I look even meaner.

“W-What…no… I did ask Harry!”

I smile and sit next to him, trying to be maternal and stuff.

“Harry does not know how to handle that kind of stuff, but I do. That’s why I am his manager. See, you did ask Harry which is great. But you didn’t ask the other players, who are not crazy about being photographed. Plus, they are distracted because of the flash. I will ask if you can for next time, but for today, please, could you stop?”

“Oh y-yeah! For sure!”

He is very sweet and looks so scared. I smile at him, stay a little bit and go back to my friends. But my friends left the bench we were sitting on and join the Gryffindor team which is facing the Slytherin’s one.

“I booked the pitch for today!” says Wood.

He is mad, his cheeks are red, his eyebrows are frown and he is holding his broom so tight I am afraid his hand is going to fusion with it.

He still looks good, though.

They argue for a few minutes but Flint shows off a paper. Wood takes it and reads it out loud, it mentions a new seeker.

“A new seeker?” I repeat with disdain.

And BLONDIE comes out of the crowd with a sufficient smile.

“Lucius Malfoy’s son,” remarks Fred with disgust.

“Funny you should mention Draco’s father” smiles Flint while the other players of the Slytherin teams exchange some sort of amused glance. “Look at what his father gifted the Slytherin team.”

They show off their new brooms: Nimbus 2001. I cannot hold my hilarity and burst out laughing.

“So that’s what it is? Since the boy lacks talent, he gotta pay the team captain to be taken? Come on Malfoy, grabs the crumbles of your dignity and leave before there is none left!”

Hermione joins me as Draco is getting redder and redder.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face disappears. 

"No one asked your opinion you filthy little Mudblood sprat."

I feel my blood boiling in my veins and my vision is blurry. I can hear my heart beats inside my head, it's like everything around me is happening too slowly and too quickly at the same time; I see movements, hear someone yelling Ron's name but I don't really what's happening. 

Under my disbelieving eyes, the Slytherins start laughing and Malfoy is latterly on the floor.

That is it.

I throw my wand on the ground, and run towards Malfoy, hitting him as much as possible.

“YOUR PROPER IDIOT. YOU ABSOLUTE DICKHEAD YOU NEED FUCKING MONEY TO SUCCEED. YOU ARE A TALENTLESS IDIOT. YOUR FATHER DOES NOT EVEN TRUST YOU TO BE CHOSEN ON A SCHOOL SPORT TEAM. I WOULD RATHER BE A SQUIB THAN HAVE A SINGLE THING IN COMMON WITH YOU!”

Someone grabs me and takes me away while I use my fists in the air. I notice that I am crying. Lovely.

Malfoy got some scratches but that’s it. He did stop laughing, which is something I suppose. I turn around, wanting to see who stopped me, completely mad.

“BUT WHY?!”

“You want another detention?” asks Wood.

“She did good!” answers George.

“Thank you!” I answer, still yelling. 

I see Harry and Hermione going away, pulling Ron with them. I squint my eyes, trying to see what has happened.

“What are they doing?”

“Your friend is not even able to do a slug vomiting charm!” mocks Malfoy.

I turn around and steps forward, but Wood grabs my arm.

“You think you are so superior, mh?”

“Of course!” he tries to answer confidently but he did move back.

“Yet, all the Weasley who were in the Gryffindor team didn’t have to make any “gifts”, Charlie and Bill were even captains. What should your father do to secure something like that for you? Get on his knees?”

I free myself from Wood’s grip and point my finger at Malfoy, walking closer to him. I feel my anger in my heart, in my fists and I just want to punch him, so bad. I know that I am not being my Sherlock self, nor my Mycroft self.

Right now, I am my Dad when he is angry.

“So, go ahead, make fun of them. But Hermione still has better grades than you, and she has been aware of this world for one year only. Keep believing Harry is liked because he is famous, it’s because he is actually likeable. If you can be half as good as Ronald you should be grateful! Please, get your head out of your ass, and just for a few minutes a day, try to be a nice human being! So keep mocking the Weasley because of blood status or any other bullshit. Keep going!”

I put my finger on his torso and whisper.

“The Black and Dumbledore’s bloodlines are going to end soon enough. Keep mocking the Weasleys or any friends of mine, and I will make sure the Malfoy’s bloodline ends with you. Am I clear?”

I step back, brush the dust off my shoulders.

“If you want to take revenge on me, I advise you to be careful, I am big enough to take care of myself but I have a father who can break your bone and name them while doing so. Your father can teach you about what my uncles are able to do.”

I look at the other members of the Slytherin teams.

“Next time you lose against Gryffindor, you won’t be able to blame your broom, won’t you? You will finally realize it’s because you are not as good as them.”

I stop myself from spitting at their feet, take a deep breathe and walk away. Need to listen to Neville talks about plants to calm down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a kudo, a comment, a cookie, anything!


	7. Chapter 6 or My Plea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean Professors accuse people without any proper evidences? I know Snape is an unfair bastard but he likes me! I am no Potter and I will not be treated this way!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONSOIR BONSOIR
> 
> You guys I am falling into a rabbit hole and that is : NEW YORK SVU. I have always watched it with my Mum from time to time but now I am falling DEEP into it. Also, I have making my speech for a moot court and damn... Rafael Barba <33 hello sir <33 !!   
> Does Rafael Barba sound like Lin Manuel Miranda yes or no (the answer is yes, i do not take constructive criticisms)  
> if anyone got a tips or two for moot court i would love to discuss with you!!

I spent the rest of the day with Neville, it helped a little but my fists are still closed and ready to be used. I walk in the Great Hall, hoping to look somewhat threatening. I see Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table, her eyes are still red. It just makes even angry again.

I decide to sit down further away and take out my book, but Neville joins me before I am able to read a single word.

“You seemed angry earlier, I asked around to see if anyone knew why…”

I didn’t tell him what had happened because I feel like it’s Hermione’s story to tell. I see I might be the only one thinking so.

“It’s nice what you did for Hermione, I am not sure I could have.”

“You mean Neville “Fighting-Your-Friends-Is-Harder-Than-Fighting-Your-Ennemies” would have not kicked Malfoy’s ass?”

“I am not sure Professor Dumbledore phrased it that way…”

“If you were able to stop the Golden Trio, I have no doubt you would be able to fight anyone. Even Voldemort was not able to fight Harry like that.”

“My grandmother thought I was a squib. I think she would have been prouder to have a Muggle-born granddaughter like Hermione rather than a pureblood as ridiculous as me.”

The worst part of all that is that Neville is not telling stuff like that to get you to pity him. He genuinely believes that what he saying is true and that it is part of the discussion. So I pretend it is not half as depressing as it was and look at him.

“Well, your grandmother, and pardon my French, is the biggest idiot I have ever met. You are amazing the way you are and I am very proud of you.”

He blushes a lot and clears his throat. 

We eat and discuss the last herbology class. As we are engaged in a furious conversation about whether or not I would be able to fistfight a mandrake, I see Harry leaving the table. Considering the all "stealing a flying car and stuff", he got a couple of detentions with Lockhart. I excuse myself and run towards him.

“Potter!”

I try to say it as arrogantly as Malfoy, seems it has worked because he turns around ready to insult me.

“Elizabeth?”

“How are Ron and Hermione?”

“Did you actually hit Malfoy?”

We spoke at the same time. I smile and let him go ahead.

“Hagrid took care of Ron and Hermione is better. She complained that you should not have hit Malfoy but I think she was actually glad.”

He has a smirk.

“Did you actually threaten him?”

So the Boy Who Lived is kind of badass I see. I guess the fact that he killed Voldemort should have given me some hints. I smile at him and put my arm around his shoulders, accompanying him in the hallway.

“I know a couple of people with some sort of… specialized competences. You know, Harry, I think you and I could be a great team.”

He blushes a little.

Do you have that classmate or that person you know but not really well, yet if something were to happen to that person you would lose it? Potter is that person for me.

“I think so too”, he admits. “Who are these people?”

“Well, you met my father and his roommate, you can imagine they have their own network. My Dad was a soldier and Sherlock is…. Sherlock. Also, one of their closest friends is a Detective Inspector.”

Potter looks impressed. Great, that was the plan.

“What about your Mum?” he asks.

Maybe it should be time to tell that she is dead, but I am so deep in my own lie I am just afraid they are all going to be mad at me. Especially Harry.

“She is the only normal one. Besides being a witch I guess.”

I don’t know much about it, sometimes it seems like she decided she didn’t want to be a witch anymore and left. Who am I going to interrogate to find information about it? The professors? I don't think my Mum was the kind of student that noticeable, she was discreet and quiet. 

“I see, well, normal feels good sometimes, doesn’t it?” he asks before turning right and going to his detention.

I guess normal would feel good sometimes. I sigh and look at my feet for a full minute before gathering the energy to go to the common room. As soon as I come in, Fred and George circle me.

“How do you feel, Watson?” asks George.

“Still ready for a fight?”

I smile at them, not really in the mood for a conversation and nod.

“Better, what about you?”

“We don’t take Malfoy’s comments personally” smiles grins George.

I don’t wait for the conversation to keep going and go to my dormitory, enjoying some time alone before pretending to be asleep when the other girls arrive.

The rest of the month is quite chill, I try to be as discreet as possible. I still have some detentions in Snape’s company and they are still boring, but at least I can get him to talk to me for a couple of sentences. I think I am done with it, might get some other detentions after Christmas break but Snape and I need a break in order to improve our relationship.

I am spending most of my time with Neville and my precious sidekick: Voldy. From time to time, Ron’s sister joins us. I think Neville got a crush on her but no certitude. But she is too obsessed with Harry, for now when he is not around she is amazing, it’s a pity she changes some much when she sees him.

...Do I do that with Wood?

It’s the 31st of October which means many things. It’s the sad anniversary of the Potter’s deaths, it’s the anniversary of the time Hermione got attacked by a troll. And more importantly, tomorrow is my birthday. I have decided I wanted to enjoy some time by myself before entering the grand age that is 13 years old. So, I am sitting in the middle of fourth years, fully knowing that Neville is going to be too intimidated to come to sit with me. I open the book I am reading, and start eating, pretending to not feel the looks of the older students, trying to silently persuade me to leave them.

You don’t scare me, I have decided to pretend to not understand the silenced social rules, you either tell I need to go away or I am staying. So far, it has been great. Usually, people don’t want to appear too rude and they just… endure whatever I am doing.

I am not going to try that with the Slytherins tho, nor with the Ravenclaw. These guys are brutally honest.

The fact that Halloween buffet is so full and there are so many candies and yet the only sport available is Quidditch is fishy. Are they going to eat us? Could do. Fairytales warned us after all.

I do enjoy my evening and my reading takes all my attention, I seem to not see the time passes by because when I look up, half the tables are empty. I put more candies in my backpack, for late evening snacks, and decide to enjoy some company, heading for the common room. Yet, it seems that everyone is against me; students are blocking the hallway.

“If you guys want to manifest something, do it in the park!! Not the hallway!”

“Filch’s cat got petrified,” a student from Hufflepuff tells me.

“I mean, if he didn’t send her around doing his dirty job, people would like the kitty,” I remark, trying to see something.

Did I mention I seem to inherit my Dad’s height?

I use my elbows, ignore some annoyed and angry looks and arrive at the front of the group where the Golden Trio is staring at something. I step towards them, noticing the lack of teachers. Ron seems petrified too, by fear.

“I got it, dude” I assure.

He does not even to be reassured by my presence. Still, I follow their eyes and see something written on the wall.

**“The Chamber Of Secrets had been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.”**

I also notice Filch’s cat, indeed petrified.

Is the game… on? Is it my time to shine? Will the Watsons restore/create their own reputation as a case solver?

Finally!

"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be the next Mudbloods"

It was Draco Malfoy.

"Is that a confession, you utter imbecile?"

Malfoy looks right back at me, with his chin up but doesn't answer.

I see. 

Soon enough, Filch arrives and I would feel for the guy – I mean, his cat got petrified, I would be straight sobbing – but he accused Potter right away. Did he not hear about innocent till proven guilty? Other Professors arrive too and I decide to stay with the Golden trio and stay in the heart of the action.

Thanks to my strategy, I learned many things.

Dumbledore has a weird relationship with Lockhart, he clearly finds him dumb but seems attached to him to some extent. Maybe he has a crush on him? No idea. Filch is a squib and apparently, Harry knew that.

At some point, Snape pretends to defend “Potter and his friends”, which means that I am part in the Golden trio (quator?) for now. Great. I would be happy with that but Snape is head of the Slytherin, and as such, he is sneaky.

“What were they doing in the upstairs corridor at this time of the day? Why weren’t they at the Halloween feast? Why is Miss Watson now in their company, although she was at the fast” 

If he hadn’t attacked me directly I could have let it go, but that’s enough now. He never calls me “Miss” but now he wants to look good in front of Dumbledore? Not under my watch.

I have decided that for this particular speech, for what I am about to do, I would use Anderson's strategy: being confident in every bullcrap I am saying.

“Well, Professor I want to thank you for your questions. It is nice to see that you are too worried and concerned about both our well being and Mrs Norris' well being as well. But is it the actual emergency? Surely, a threat has been written on the wall of our loved castle, an animal has been attacked, should we wonder who did and did not attend the banquet? I am not sure.”

I use a dramatical break, observing everyone. Snape is as neutral as expected, one single eyebrow raised. Filch is straight-up fascinated. Lockhart looks bored and annoyed, which I find both bold and petty on his part which I can respect. Professor McGonagall has this expression that I love when you annoy her but she still likes you. Dumbledore is clearly having the time of his life, I hope it’s not at my depends. Hermione is going to kill me, Ron kiss me, Harry kill me.

“Your questions seem full of suspicion, Professor. Would Harry Potter, I mean, the same boy who skipped the Banquet last year, and so did Ronald Weasley, to save Hermione and I from a troll, actually do such a thing? The same Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, who saved us from Voldemort be… the “heir”? The only enemies I see in Harry Potter’s life is You-Know-Who and the next transfiguration homework, with all due respect Professor McGonagall.”

I take a deep breath.

“Would Hermione Granger write this thing down? Would Hermione Granger, the same girl who yells at me if I dare put my initial on a desk, use blood on the wall of her beloved castle? C’mon now! Would she hurt this cat? Seeing how she is outraged when I send mine kill spiders, I doubt so.”

Hermione blushes.

“What about Ron now you may ask. Well, the poor boy is paranoid that cats may kill his cute little rat, and we all saw and admired Mrs Norris' hunting skills” I smile, seeing Filch’s tearful eyes. “What about me? I am just a dedicated friend trying to make sure justice is preserved.”

I would love to add “and scene” but I feel like it’s too much. Dumbledore politely nods but Snape has a dangerous smile.

“Although I have my own suspicions against your friends, Miss Watson. I was wondering where they were rather than why. Don’t you think that any suspicions would disappear with an alibi?”

My smile freezes on my lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so? so? so? Did you like it? 
> 
> See you next week!


	8. Chapter 7 or The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So my argument was not as good as planned, fair enough. I will still try to salvage all of this. Will I succeed? Probably not, but it is ok. My friends will still be happy that I defend them, right?  
> ... Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour bonjour!!
> 
> I hope you guys are OK! I wanted to thank you! I got comments on both fics and I thank you so much! I am so glad I finally had some comments/remarks on my English and I am excited to take them into account in the chapters to come. Please! Don't hesitate to comment! Especially on my English, the whole point of posting this fic is to improve my English!  
> As for the story, for the first two books, I am sticking to what I wrote in French. I am going to do some subtle changes starting the third book. I am happy to take suggestions!

So what now? Do I dig my own hole even deeper or try to salvage all of this. Snape is enjoying himself and decides to take (my) spotlight. He has some sort of smirk and decides to go on. 

“Well, Miss Watson, although we thoroughly enjoyed your speech I believe that telling the truth would be easier. It might be a better idea if you were deprived of some of your privileges until you are ready to tell us what happened. For example, Potter could be taken off the Gryffindor team.” 

How awful it must be for the Slytherins to know that, even with their brand new brooms, Snape does not believe they are going to win against Harry.

I am not going to lose that quickly, fighting till I am completely knocked out is the least I can do. I look up at Snape, crossing my arms.

“Although I do understand and respect your point of view, Professor, I would like to add and conclude by saying, that it is a fundamental principle that we are innocent until proven guilty. I am no expert or anything, but your … evidence seems circumstantial.”

All I know is thanks to Rafael Barba from the Special Victim Unit and the Great Annalise Keating. Severus’ smirk freezes on his lips and he briefly looks at Dumbledore hoping for help. Dumbledore smiles at him.

“She is right, Severus.”

I love you Gandalf.

“To your dormitories!” declares Minerva while Snape’s dark eyes follow me and promise all kind of torture in the days to come.

We obey before they change their mind and decide to use us as a bait for the “heir” of the Chamber of Secrets. I follow the Golden trio, a few steps behind them.

“Do you think I should have told them about the voice I heard?” asks Harry.

“No”, answers Ron right away. “Hearing voices is no good, even for wizards.”

I frown, although I do feel kind of left out I am enjoying the fact that I am catching up right now.

“So… I act as your lawyer, do it beautifully and later learned that my clients are hiding stuff from me? Do you guys watch crime shows?”

Dumb question: no they do not.

“We didn’t ask you to help us!” defends Ronald.

“I was trying to help! You guys were looking so scared I was just doing what I thought was right!”

“You just wanted to be noticed” sighs Hermione.

“You think that’s what it’s about?!”

“Stop!” yells Harry.

We all turn around to look at him. He looks pensive, his eyebrows are frown, and his hair is messier than ever, his forehead is completely exposed and we can see his scar.

“We have more pressing things to do than fighting! What’s a squib anyway?”

Ron has a mocking laugh, I elbow him in the ribs and pretend to not see his offended face.

“A wizard without magic power. He is born in a family with wizard blood but has no magic.”

I let them discuss, I got all the information I needed anyways. Plus, I don’t want to talk to Hermione, I think I am done for the evening. Instead, I write a letter to Sherlock and pretend to be asleep when she enters the dormitory.

The next day, I catch up on my missing sleep in history of magic. Neville and I sat in the Ravenclaw side of the room, hidden from everyone, I am in the corner and my piece of parchment never felt as comfortable as it does today. I have been avoided Snape and the Golden Trio, afraid that the former is going to kill me and I honestly don’t have the energy to talk to the latter.

At the end of the class, when I wake up actually, the atmosphere is different, as if people actually listened to what Binns was saying which seems unlikely. I look around and ask Neville.

“What’s going on?”

“You would know if you were paying attention,” says Hermione, her voice full of arrogance.

I now remember she can be particularly annoying when she wants to.

“Why would I? Don’t you love to show everyone how much you know? You should thank me” I respond, icy.

I try not to look at her as she seems to be more and more upset and decide to pay a visit to the library. I don’t think I am the only who thought of it but I suppose there is at least one book mentioning the chamber of secrets.

It is only a week later that Sherlock finally answers me.

“Elizabeth,

Your blackmail did not work, the only reason I am helping you is by pure personal interests. I am sharing the information I collected in exchange for the ones you will find at the castle.

Apparently, the chamber of secrets was made by Salazar Slytherin who disagreed with the students' selection process proposed by the other founders. To him, only pureblood and half-blood wizards were worthy to learn about magic.

These are the historical facts, I also heard about some myths. Although there are stories told, I suppose they have some historical base you could learn about. The only reason I let myself do some research in the matter is that considering the magical aspect, and the fact that the creation of Hogwarts is old, myths and legends are maybe all that is left. Apparently, there is a sealed room that only the heir could open. They also mention a creature purifying Hogwarts.

I suppose that Slytherin’s heirs go to the House called Slytherin, it cannot be Harry Potter. However, his strange connection to Voldemort may give him some skills that only the heir could have (supposing Voldemort is the heir of Slytherin, they do have lots of ideas in common).

Hogwarts was created millennia ago, since then, wizard families want to keep a pure bloodline, it resulted in inbreeding to some extent. I doubt there is one single heir. There might be a couple of them.

Stay on you guard, the creature might lead you to the one you’re looking for.

SH.”

I put the letter in the inside pocket of my jacket and glance at the park for a while. The weather is getting colder, usually, in the early morning, there is a mild frost. I feel my cat rubbing against my legs and purring. I take him in my arm and kiss the top of my head.

“Aren’t you my favourite?”

“Are you mad at us?” asks someone in my back.

I may or may not have jumped out of surprise and turn around quickly, facing Potter and his friends. I furrow my eyebrows.

“Why would I be mad?”

“We don’t know, but you sure look like it” subtly responds Ronald.

I pet my cat and shrug my shoulders.

“If you actually believe I defend people just to be remarked, don’t you think I would just follow Fred and George around and prepare an oral argument each and every time a Professor yells at them? I defend my friends, but I suppose you don’t consider me as such and you could not think I would do such a thing.”

“You are our friend!” affirms Ron while Hermione and Harry furiously nod.

“But weren’t you mad at us?” asks Hermione.

“Maybe a little… just like you were.”

She blushes but smiles and I can’t resist smiling back.

“Are you coming to the Quidditch game?” asks Harry. “I would love to see you, and I am pretty sure so would Wood.”

I am not going to fall for that.

“Sorry, my uncle asks for some stuff, I gotta do some researches and I am going to enjoy the library while it’s empty.”

I smile at them, trying to persuade them that I am not mad at them although I am not sure about my feelings anymore. I guess I am still hurt. Also, I am not sure the library is the best idea to find info. It leads to nothing last time.

In the hallways, I come across Malfoy and his two idiots.

“Even Longbottom can’t stand you anymore?”

I am not in the mood at all.

“Absolutely. Neville cannot stand me anymore. Can you imagine what kind of bitch I must be for him to not support me anymore? So please, if you need to mock me for your superiority complex, take your time but don’t forget how scared you were when I threatened you.”

He rolls his eyes, giving his broom to Goyle and crossing his arms.

“I was just afraid your Muggle of a father taught you some muggle techniques about wizards!”

Fair enough he does not make sense, but no one mentions my father in such an insulting tone.

“You mean kicking your ass with my fists rather than use a piece of wood?”

I make a sudden step forward and enjoys the fact that he steps back. I grin at him, arrogantly, and go to the library. I believe that Ms Pince (VERIFIER) wanted to enjoy her afternoon for herself. Well, too bad, here I am.

At the end of the evening, when I go back to the Great Hall, the atmosphere is electric. I sigh, I have not found anything and I feel like I have let down Sherlock. I find Hermione and sit next to her.

“Potter in troubles?”

“He sprained his arm!” laughs Ron. “Lockhart wanted to help but he melted his bone!”

“He what now?”

“I don’t know how to explain! It’s like his arm was boneless!”

“He did not do it on purpose!” explains Hermione.

I hope with all of my heart that my eyes express how much I am judging her right now. I finish my plate as fast as possible, trying to do my best impression of Ron. Seeing Hermione’s disgusted face I succeded.

I take something from the table, and then run to the infirmary and find the Boy Who Lived not very much alive. He looks in pain even in his sleep. I sigh and sit at the bottom of the bed. Seems enough to wake him up.

“Maybe I should have come” I smile.

He sits up with a grimace.

“It is painful” he complains. “It’s because of Lockhart.”

“Are you sure though? Hermione told me it was not on purpose.”

The way Harry looks at me is very much eloquent. I laugh and take out something from my backpack. A piece of molasses pie gently and carefully put in a paper towel.

Harry has a quick worried look at Mrs Pumfresh’s office but his stomach takes control of the boy and he eats it whole in a couple of seconds.

“Wow.”

“You’re not mad anymore?” he asks, chewing the last bit of the pie.

“No, I am not. The fact that you almost died reminded me that you are pretty likeable.” I answer, looking at the window.

He smiles and then loudly yawns.

“Good night, Potter.”

“Good night, Watson” he answers, half asleep.

Back in my dormitory, Hermione and I are playing our favourite game, we start a book at the same time, and the one who is farther in her book at 10 pm wins. She wins the right to use the bathroom first.

Hermione usually wins.

Next morning, before classes, I decided to go see Potter. One of the bed in the corner of the infirmary is hidden by some dark-coloured curtains. Harry is having breakfast.

“Is everything alright? Who is that bed?”

“Colin Creevey.” He answers between two bites, looking concerned. “Petrified.”

“W-What?”

I feel my heart sinks at the bottom of my chest. This poor guy who was just a hardcore fan of Harry. He was a little bit too much but sweet and nice. He didn’t seem to dislike me which was already something.

“And the house-elf I talk to you about last, he came back.”

“Did he now?”

Harry explains to me what Dobby told him. When he is done, I look at his scar for half a second but I see in his eyes that he caught me.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Your uncle asked you to find stuff on the chamber of secrets, didn’t he?” he asks. “Maybe we can help each other.”

I smile.

“I would love that.”

“Shouldn’t you go in potion?”

“Harry, you perfectly know that Snape loves me. I could even be late.”

Leaving him on that lie, I run back to the dungeons. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ! What did you think? What do you want for Elizabeth's future?


	9. Chapter 8 or The Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First I thought it was pizza night. Then I realized it was a duelling club. Now I am crying my eyes off. What a day, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour!  
> My profound apologizes, this one is a little shorter than usual. This week has been hell, and so will the next one! I have a ton of readings to do for uni, classes to follow and I got a moot court coming up! I am trying to keep up the pace but next week's chapter might be on Sunday rather than Saturday :/ I would rather have a complete chapter than something a little too rough around the edges  
> Also, still binge watching Law and Order SVU, got any good Barba fics to to make me read?

I try to ignore the rumours and discussions about who might the next one to be petrified. Neville, for some reasons, is completely sure he will be next. I am afraid to know who will be next. I am not sure if Malfoy is really the one behind it, but I know that whoever is the “heir”, he probably does not like Hermione. Plus, she is Harry’s friend.

I am so scared for her but I cannot tell her anything. What good would that be? “Hey, can you be careful?” “About what?” “Absolutely everything.”

Coming out of the library, I see students running through the hallway, they all seem to go towards the Great Hall and the last time I saw such an excitation was when there was pizza for dinner. I don’t think I need to run, my favourite pizza is Hawaiian and usually, there is always some pieces left.

Although I do feel my hunger and excitation growing as I walk down the halls, I am also hurt that Neville did not mention it yesterday. Is this what betrayal feels like?

I go into the Great Hall, following the students and having the awful realization that we are not eating pizza. Instead, a stage was set up in the middle of the room, a long stage.

I don’t regret it.

A lengthy platform is in the middle of the room, students are standing around and next to it. Snape and Lockhart are next to each other. Lockhart looks full of himself and happy, as usual. Snape looks like he would rather eat something poisonous than be here.

Might propose him my pizza.

“What’s going on?” I ask a Ravenclaw nearby.

“Professor Lockhart is going to duel Snape,” she says, her voice shaking with excitation.

I could judge but honestly I kind of get it. I have my own celebrity crushes. Nevertheless, I despise Lockhart and refuse to show any kind of support to this man. So I walk around the platform and stand next to the Slytherins, in the midst of the Snape support squad. Plus, I am pretty sure Snape is going to win

After a brief introduction, in which Lockhart calls Snape “his assistant”, I am absolutely sure the potion master is going to destroy him. Snape does a beautiful and aggressive experlliarmus on Lockhart. I feel like the only adequate response is

“Bravo!”

I ignore the annoyed looks I get. If this gives a bonus point in potion, it is worth it.

“Do you think I can volunteer?” I ask Pansy Parkinson who hisses at me like a mad cat.

Ok girl, I don’t get it, but I respect it.

Lockhart gives some sort of excuse on why he didn’t counter the spell and his fangirls believe him. At least he got that.

Then, we are teamed up to continue the duel. I leave my Slytherins bros and go find Neville, but Snape interferes, as usual. He decides to spice things up and change the teams a little.

So I end up with Crabbe and I feel like this is too easy.

“Is English ok with you? Do I need to talk slower?” I ask him with an over-exaggerated smile.

“Who do you think you are, Watson?” he says aggressively.

Maybe I deserved it, maybe I didn’t.

“Do I need to remind you that Malfoy is afraid of me and you are afraid of him?” I ask dangerously.

Never thought my intimidation technique would depend on Malfoy. Life always finds a way to surprise you, doesn’t it?

The teachers let us start the duels. At first, it’s easy. I just use what I know, quickly and well. Crabbe is so focused his eyebrows are just a dark line. He keeps using protego again and again. But at some point, he seems to find some inner strength or some other Karate Kid bullshit, because he starts to be more aggressive in his spells.

I find myself struggling a little and I am not a fan of the feeling.

I try to use all the frustrations I accumulated these past weeks. Between the lack of letters from Mycroft, the absence of news regarding the new case my Dad and Sherlock are working on, the fact of having letters each time and not being able to call them, the fact that I cannot talk to my Mum.

My Mum.

I keep on and on and only stop when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Watson, you were supposed to stick to the experlliarmus.”

I look up, meeting Snape’s eyes then look across the room. Crabbe is tied up, laughing hysterically and got green hair. I feel my eyes burning from the tears I am trying to hold in.

“I am sorry Professor,” I say.

“You got yourself a detention.”

I look down at my toes, unable to hold the tears any longer and sniffling loudly.

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

I free myself from his hand and run towards the exit, only stopping once I am in the empty middle courtyard. I sit on one of the edge of a window and let myself cry for a couple of minutes, hiding my face in my hands.

“Well, Miss Watson, I would have expected you would be duelling with your friends.”

Now is not the time discount Santa Claus. I sigh and try to wipe off my tears before smiling at Dumbledore. Although he smiles back, I see a little worry in his eyes.

The dude is sweet.

“I was… a little too hard on Crabbe. Professor Snape asked me to stop.”

“Were you mad at Crabbe?”

“I don’t think one can be mad at Crabbe. You would him to have one opinion on his own” I remark.

Dumbledore is nice enough to not react to my remark and asks.

“Then why were you too hard?”

“I don’t know… I supposed that good and strong spells came from strong feelings and maybe mine were too strong.”

“Good magic can come from strong feelings indeed” he agrees. “Strong spells too, but if you are not able to control them, they soon become dangerous.”

“I suppose you are right. That must be why you are Headmaster, right?”

“I suppose it is because of these feelings that you are upset,” he says.

I shrug my shoulders and look somewhere else. I don’t know why he is playing the shrink and I am hoping he is going to leave.

“Maybe”

“Is it about your Mum?”

My stupefaction must be all over my face because he cannot hide his smile (or does not want to).

“Do you think that the professors don’t know about your Mum? She was one of Professor Sprout’s favourite student.”

I feel my mouth drying and I am unable to articulate something, my eyes begging him to please please continue to tell me about her. I see his smile be even more gentle than usual.

“She was a very nice student, very shy. I don’t think you took much from her, maybe from your Dad” he smiles.

I don’t argue with him, although sceptical at first, but I would not call my Dad shy. He is sometimes a little bit more discreet because Sherlock takes so much room.

“I was sorry to hear about her death.”

I take a deep breath, trying to stop myself from crying again.

“Thank you.”

I don’t like having to thank people for being sorry. You should be sorry but there is no need to tell me, I have enough feelings for myself already.

“Take your time, enjoy the nice weather, Miss Watson.”

This is so enjoyable, I am having the time of my life. I look at the old man taking off, wondering where he is going, but I don’t feel like following him.

Should I ask Sprout about my Mum? Why didn’t she mention it earlier? Is that why she is always so annoyed with me? She liked my Mum and don’t like me?

Maybe that’s why Snape does not like Neville, he had a crush on his Mum or something.

I sigh and decide to listen to the old man for once. I take a walk into the park. I have tried again and again to push off the idea of my Mum walking into this castle at the very bottom of my brain. Maybe (probably) denial is not the best strategy but it is the only sustainable one I have for now.

“Watson! We were looking for you!”

I feel my shoulders tense up and try to rub off my face anything that would show that I was crying. I sniffle once last time and turn around, smiling clumsily to Fred, George and Lee Jordan.

“I didn’t know I had a fan club.”

Seems that I haven’t succeeded in hiding my tears, I see all three of them looking at me with unease for a slight second before Fred continues.

“I wouldn’t call that a fan club.”

“What do you guys need?”

“Percy got a girlfriend”, explains George.

“Good for him. Might help loosen him up.”

“But he doesn’t know we know” smiles Fred. “He is hiding her from us and we want to figure it out.”

“Why are you asking me?” I ask frowning.

“Are you refusing?” responds George.

They all look uneased, kind of awkward, Fred is the only one who is somewhat succeeding at hiding it.

“No, I can do it!” I answer after a couple of seconds. “Is it like… urgent?”

“The sooner the better.”

Guess I got to get to work, we talk about classes for a couple of minutes but then I wander off to accomplish my mission. Yet, there is something I don’t know.

George, Fred and Lee saw me crying earlier today. They were going to ask what was wrong but Dumbledore approached me first, and they decided to leave us alone. They may or may not have heard about my Mum, they never told me. When they saw me again that day, they had hoped I was better but realized that I wasn't. They did not need my help to find Percy's girlfriend, they already knew, they just thought it would distract me.

They were right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it! Full disclosure this is not my favourite and I also made some big modifications from the French chapter I wrote. I am also thinking about leaving the first person POV, what do you think?


	10. Chapter 9 or The Let Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought my birthday will be exciting. But it is not, it's just sad.  
> And so is Christmas.  
> Valentine's day was ok.  
> The days after were depressing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour!
> 
> It's a big boy this week! I don't think I will post next week though, I have a moot court competition next weekend and we are going to rehearse again and again and again. I hope you guys can forgive me <3

It's the first of November! O joy! O glory! I am celebrating my 13th birthday and I am now officially older than Potter, Weasley and the other boys. There is only Hermione who is slightly older than me. She really can’t stand being second, but that’s ok. I feel like I were older than her, I would use that again and again and that’s honestly for the best.

Anyways, where are my gifts? I love gifts! I love seeing how people can surprise me and how much they know me. I love it. I also love giving gifts, spending hours and hours thinking about what I am going to buy or make them.

The first gift I bought for my Dad was for father’s day. Though I must admit that he was so surprised to receive a gift in the first place, a good old macaroni necklace would have been enough. But I came through. I made him some pancakes, and a nice Father’s day card, and I got him a very nice edition of “The Hobbit” (which he absolutely loves). He may have teared up in secret, he was so emotional his voice was shaking.

I love that. I feel like I won a competition.

So anyway, I get out of bed, putting a sweater on, grabbing my scarf and my beanie: November is cold in Scotland. It is still early so I try to be as silent as possible, grabbing my shoes and putting them on outside the dormitory.

I didn’t think I would have my gifts that early in the morning but I still hoped. I can still enjoy this morning by myself. I go straight to the park. Hearing my steps and my steps only on the stairs is peaceful and pleasant. There is also something fascinating with this castle: you know for a fact that every British wizard or witch has probably had their first kiss in one of these corners.

Maybe my Mum in this hallway? Maybe Dumbledore in this closet? Who knows?

Really excited about discovering what is amazing about love. I get that Sherlock does not like it, I am not that emotional myself but if there are so many movies, songs, writings about it, for so many years, it must be something to live. You know what I mean?

Anyways!

I go to the owlery, taking my time to admire the sunshine pierces through the grey clouds of November, observing the other owls bringing gifts and letters to their owners. I brought my book of the week, thankfully and wait patiently for Frodo while reading Little Women. 

He is not that long to arrive and drop a big box. I pet him affectionately and open the box. Inside there are two gifts and three letters. I open the letters, first my Dad’s.

_“Honey,_

_I wish you a very happy birthday. You will find your birthday gift (obviously) but also some new clothes, mostly sweaters. I thought you might get cold._

_Baker Street has not changed but I feel like you won’t take my words for it so I also printed my blog articles (and Sherlock’s) so you can read them for yourself. I must tell you that our past cases have not been that interesting._

_This brings me to my next point, our current case is dangerous. Too dangerous for us to let you come back home this Christmas break. It pains me to write it to you but I cannot let you come back right now with peace of mind. I cannot tell you right now why but you will now soon enough._

_I miss you, Elizabeth._

_Love,_

_Dad.”_

I feel a lump in my throat growing and try to avoid tearing up, putting the letter back in the box and opening the two others.

_“I am sorry you can’t come. Happy birthday. -SH”_

_“Happy birthday. -MH”_

How recomforting, how loving and nice. I feel like pure shit. I FROISSE the letters and put them back into the box. I take the sweater and open the gift, it’s a book about unresolved crimes, I contemplate keeping it but decide to leave it here. Maybe someone will enjoy the reading. I also throw the letters away.

I guess it’s my lucky day, my birthday falls on a Saturday, I don’t have to go to classes with my eyes reddened. I just go to the bathroom to live my disappointment fully and cry a little. I guess I like to pretend that I am tough and that my Dad was the clingy one but actually I am pretty clingy myself.

I miss them so bad. Why did he tell me the day of my birthday?

After a while, I go back to the dormitory, trying to be as discreet as possible, I just want to go back in my bed with my cat and wake up in a week. I decide to use my phone. It usually does not work well inside Hogwart walls but sometimes it works well enough to allow me to listen to my playlist.

I play “England” by the Nationals on a loop, until the phone is completely empty.

Hermione tries to get me out of bed but I convince her to leave me alone for a while. I thought about lying but the girl is not that easy to convince, so I told the truth instead, that I was a little bit sad and needed alone time. She left me alone. I am grateful.

Is this dramatic? Yeah, maybe I don’t know.

I come downstairs for dinner and Neville spots me right away, showing me the empty seat next to him. I smile and join him, he gives me a small plant. The pot is no bigger than a teacup.

“It’s a flitterbloom” he tells me.

He begins explaining to me how to care for it but I interrupt him.

“Thank you so much” I respond, tearing up, putting my hand on his forearm. “You have no idea how touched I am.”

He has no idea indeed. He looks a little bit worried but is nice enough to not say anything. Whatever happens, whatever I am going through, the knowledge that Neville will always be by my side is so recomforting.

I have to stop myself from hugging the plant (or Neville). After dinner, Hermione joins me and whisper to me “happy birthday”. She talks to me about her day, trying to distract me but I see how much she wants to ask me what is exactly going on. If she could, she would handcuff me and interrogate me full on Scotland Yard mode.

I fall asleep easier than I thought I would. Emotions are exhausting.

ooOOOoo

Christmas Christmas Christmas.

I hate it! Who likes Christmas? I was never a fan, now was I? Last year was not that good anyway, Dad brought his girlfriend. And now, Dad decided that it would be great to leave me in this castle without any explanation as to why or anything. They sent me letters, I don’t have the strength to open them. Every time I feel like I should open it because maybe they explain to me why I am stopped by the fear that my Dad just apologizes and explains again that they just cannot. 

Neville is going back to his grandmother. I was mad at him for a full second but when he told me, a big smile on his face how excited he was to see his parents, I could not be mad any longer. He also told me that his grandmother did not understand his excitation, sometimes I don’t either but I strongly believe that I will never be able to the deep and loving relationship Neville was able to build with his parents. None of us can. But that’s ok. We don’t have to.

At least, the Golden Trio and the rest of the Weasley stayed too. Hermione was nice enough to share with me some of her favourite books, Ron tried to teach me chess and I got to help Fred and George in one of their joke (nothing big, I just lied to McGonagall).

I go into the Great Hall, putting my hands in my pockets. The teachers are not as strict with uniforms as they are during the rest of the year, I put on one of the sweaters my Dad sent me. It is a new sweater, but it feels old, it itches a little, it does not have definite colours. It is just there, you know what I mean?

The Great Hall is so beautiful, breathtaking. I hate that I am here to see it. I hate that I am having dinner here, with some of my friends rather than having my Dad making me watch a Christmas movie (and I pretend I don’t want to). I hate that I did not have the chance to find a gift for Sherlock, it always takes me ages to find one but I always do. Something small, never expensive, but something telling him that I actually know what he likes.

I hate it I hate it I hate it. Even Potter’s homemade sweater does not make me smile, I am dying with jealousy. Mrs Weasley spent all of this time knitting sweaters for her sons and Harry? Is there someone sweeter than her on this Earth? Beside Hagrid.

Hagrid gave me some cookies yesterday, he told me he hoped it would make me smile. It did. Almost made me cried in my bed, but that’s ok. 

I wish I could stay alone today but I know they won’t let me. Indeed, Hermione waves at me right away and she got such a bright smile I cannot refuse. I smile back and sit next to her, listening to Fred and George telling a story about a Christmas when Ron was three years old. Ronald’s ears are already blushing.

Frodo arrives a little bit later, hooting super loudly. He drops a box on the table and comes to see me, I gave him some bites of my food and scratch him a little. I look at the big box, feeling my heart aching.

“Well!” says Harry. “If you are not opening it, we will.”

“Great idea!” declares Ron.

Hermione does not even stop them, neither do I. I look at them as they meticulously open the box. I got some teas from Ms Hudson, she always remembers my favourite.

“Well, will you look at that?” smiles Fred.

He takes out a framed picture of my Dad, Sherlock and me. I know that picture, I already threatened them to send it to the papers, it just looks like proof that they are a gay couple. It’s a picture Mrs Hudson forced us to take. My Dad smiles at the camera, his arms around my shoulders. I am in the middle and although I didn’t want to smile, I look at my Dad with a smirk. I am ten on that picture. Sherlock didn’t want to come but I took his hand and he stayed. He looks resolutely at the wall, completely impassible.

Next to the picture, there is a note “Love you. -From Sherlock and Dad.”

Oh my God, they are so gay. Maybe they are having their honeymoon and that's why I can't come. 

“What about it?” I respond to Fred with a defiant look.

If I looked embarrassed he would get what he wants. Fred shrugs his shoulders.

“Nothing.”

“You already look mad at someone”, smiles George. “What are you so angry at?”

“Probably life,” says Hermione.

“Very funny, Miss Granger” I grumble.

I see a letter at the bottom of the box. I recognize Sherlock’s handwriting. I frown my eyebrows and take it.

_“Elizabeth,_

_Merry Christmas and whatnot. You will find the celebrations you are looking for in your Dad’s letter._

_I just wanted to ask you to take care of John. I also apologize._

_Sherlock.”_

What kind of letter is that? How did that man know how sad I was for not being at Baker Street for Christmas? He is not that good with emotions.

I put the letter back, read my Dad’s and open my last gift from Mycroft, it’s a box of very nice and expensive biscuits. I take it. Already excited to share it with Hermione.

I write back right away, grabbing a piece of paper from my backpack.

“Thank you I guess. Would have rather being here with you though. -EW”

I am not mad anymore. I am just sad. It’s worse. 

ooOOOoo

Later during Christmas Break, Hermione has to go to the infirmary. I don’t know exactly why but I know Ron and Harry were smiling too much for her own good. If these boys hurt her I will have no other choice than kill them.

Stronger than Voldemort.

The rest of the break was uneventful. So was January, to be honest with you. I was glad to get Neville back and hear him talk about his plants and his parents and whatever he wanted to talk about. The only thing interesting was that we got to choose our options for next year. I took arithmancy, the study of ancient runs and divination. I went in person explain to Hagrid that I was afraid of bugs and animals with teeth. He did not understand but respected my choice.

My Dad and Sherlock have been very silent as well, with no letter in sight. It is ok, I don’t have anything nice to say.

Hermione was at the infirmary for a long time but the boys didn’t tell me the reason. I am sure they are guilty but can’t prove it.

Anyways, it is the 14th of February and apparently, Lockhart believes he is the matchmaker of this castle. The Great Hall’s walls are pink and heart-shaped confetti are falling from the roof. 

McGonagall looks like she is ready to box the man and Snape may have drunk a full bottle of laxative. Lockhart, on the other hand, is wearing a pink suit and proudly announces that this is a “morale booster” (“What? Students petrified? Fair enough! But look at my suit, don’t you feel better already?”). There are also dozens of “cupids” (dwarves wearing golden wings and carrying harps) delivering valentines messages.

This is interesting.

Lockhart also asks Flitwick in front of everyone if he can teach us seduction spells and Snape to make us do love potion. I really hope someone is going to ask Snape if we are actually going to do that, I want to see Snape fist fight a student.

Later in the day, I heard that Lockhart got a lot of valentines letter. I look at Hermione.

“Tell me you did not.”

She blushes and does not answer. I cannot hide my horrified look and stare at her as she runs away from me.

Yeah, hide yourself.

But! I sent a message to Malfoy! That was the highlight of my day.

“So much is left unsaid,

I wish I could put you in my bed,

So much hotter than a volcano,

I love you Draco!”

I love myself so much I don’t need any Valentines. I wish that Draco’s reaction was the best thing of the day. Don’t get me wrong, the boy was beet red and when he heard my hysteric laugh, he understood right away. He was ready to kill me but I winked at him and left the room.

But Harry also got a Valentine message from Ginny Weasley and she won. She beat me. She knocked me out. Her message was amazing.

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he was mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.

Fred and George asked me if I sent something to Wood. I am trying to move on and they are always the first to bring me back.

Although I recognize spending lots of time watching their training. They have lots of them lately, preparing for their game against Hufflepuff. I also want to support my friend, Harry Potter, thank you very much. And sure, Wood is here, but that’s a pure hazard.

Soon enough it’s Game Day. I have decided to (again) show my support and have Gryffindor’s colours all over my face. Dean put on the makeup, he likes muggle soccer and is used to do that kind of makeup. We both look ridicules but I don’t mind and neither does he.

I also dropped my investigation for the heir of the Chamber of Secret. It has been uneventful, there are no clues to investigate.

Leaving the Common Room, I come across Professor McGonagall.

“Miss Watson I was looking for you.”

Ugh.

“What for?”

“Professor Dumbledore asks for you.”

UGH.

I frown my eyebrows but frown and follow her to Dumbledore’s office. Professor McGonagall looks agitated, very nervous. I feel worries and anxiety tightens my chest. I know that feeling. I know it. I didn’t like it the last time I felt it. I don’t want to go into Dumbledore’s office but I go up the stairs mechanically.

As I open the door, Dumbledore’s bleu eyes fall on me. But I don’t see it. instead, I see the umbrella against his BUREAU. I already feel my breath accelerates and I want to go see the Game, I want to leave. I don’t want to be here.

“Elizabeth” gently says the old man.

No-no-no.

Mycroft turns around and seems to not notice my makeup. He looks tired, he looks older than he is and I almost don’t hear what he says to me.

“Sherlock died, Elizabeth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very very sorry (or am I?) to leave you on a cliffhanger (ahahha likes the Reichenbach falls ahahhaha get it??). But i am sure you will forgive me <3 Have a nice week and take care of yourself, rest as much as you can and be nice to you and others!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it! I finished translating it a few minutes ago (in between two EU Law study sessions and a piece of Christmas Turkey).  
> Just in case clarification is needed: John and Sherlock are not together (yet?), Elizabeth's mother is Morrocan and although it's not really relevant now I don't want it to come up as a surprise later :)


End file.
